WONDERLAND
by Wolfa Moon
Summary: KIDLOCK. AU. Sherlock and John meet earlier in life. And it will never be the same. Alternate past on characters. But enjoy and review. TY
1. Chapter 1

WONDERLAND

By: Wolfa Moon

SUMMARY:

KIDLOCK. AU. Sherlock and John meet earlier in life. And it will never be the same. Alternate past on characters. But enjoy and review. TY

DISCLAIMER:

I don't own. Just an idea.

WONDERLAND

Sherlock climbed up in the tree seeking the solitude that was so hard to find in his bustling home. Their family having names and titles they had a huge house filled with several servants. Taking refuge in their many of apple trees that circled the house. Loving the smell and convenience of a snack. Also the attribute of Newton's law. Being so high up.

Looking down at his pad he went over his equations again. Life was dull. Figuring out the latest spy novel his mother gifted him with. Looking at it he tossed it down.

"OW! Bloody hell." Startled by the voice he looks down. Looking down he finds a pair of blue eyes looking into his more ice blue. The boy holding up the offensive idiotic book. "Yours?"

"It's trash. Easy to figure out." The boy tilts his head up in confusion. "The story that book contains."

"I see. And that gives you a reason to toss it."

"Yes."

"Ah," the boy puts the book under his arm. Leaning over to pick up an apple the tree had discarded.

"That is mine."

"It's trash." The boy corrected him on his statement. Taking a bite of the apple. Sherlock smiled. It felt a little foreign but this new boy had wit. Tossing his notebook down he watched the boy step back. Grinning madly he jumped down from his high perch. Standing upright once he dismounted. Wiping some leaves off him.

"You are mad." Sherlock nods.

"It has been noted." The boy shakes his head as he bites into the apple. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Yes, it's very good." The apple he is eating was bruised but the boy didn't seem to care. Looking around they are in the middle of his family's orchard. Where did the boy come from? Then he took in the boy. A little shorter than him. Lankier and in cloths that needed to be cleaned, desperately. Than something clicked. The boy must be homeless or a gypsy, how grand.

"There are better apples to chose."

"I'm not picky." Finishing off the apple. Looking around at the others that have fallen.

"I'm Sherlock Holmes, this is our estate." The boy visibly paled at the information. Taking a step back from the boy.

"Sorry I had no clue."

"It's okay. It's better that they get eaten than waste a way." The boy sighed in relief at this.

"John Watson, I'm down the way staying with my aunt."

"Your aunt?"

"Yeah she's the one with the cats." Sherlock knew the house all to well. The crazy cat lady who seemed to only care for her flock. For this woman to acquire a child. What where his parents thinking.

"I see." John nodding his head knowing what people thought of his aunt. He thought the same thing as well. Picking up another apple he shoved it in his pocket. He knew that his aunt was not the best of caregivers. The people who had dropped him off even saying so but he had no other place to go. "Thank you for the apples."

Sherlock watched as John filled his pockets with apples. Did his aunt not feed him? Well from the state of him it was rather obvious he wasn't being fed well. That solved it.

"Come with me."

"Why?" from the tone it sounded like he was in trouble. But the boy held no malice in his stance. Appraising each other for threat. There was none. Sherlock walked around John.

"This will never do." John raises an eyebrow at this. Sherlock then drops rolling around in the dirt and grass. Both of John's eyebrows rose.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock rolled around a little more before hopping up.

"There," John just looks at him. Sherlock seems proud as his once pristine cloths are now dirty and rumpled with grass stains. "What did I miss a spot?"

"No you got everywhere." Guessing that there was a point to this but as of yet had no clue.

"What?"

"Why?"

"So when we go to my house they won't question you." John looks at the boy like a foreign object. Where did he come from? This upper-class boy made himself dirty so when he took him in, sounding like a stray. He would not be forced to answer embarrassing questions.

"Thank you. Brilliant." Sherlock looks taken a back at that. John wonders if he has done something wrong. "What?"

"You thanked me."

"Yes." And the problem was.

"Nothing." He grabs his notebook. "Come along." Actually it was something. He had done acts before and it was expected. His mother only ever thanked him.

They both headed toward his home.

WONDERLAND

Upon entering the huge estate John stares around in wonder. The place is huge. Bigger than his parents house and defiantly bigger than his aunts which was 3 times the size of his parents.

"Come along," Sherlock beckoned as they made their way further into the house. Still staring he followed. Doors opened upon larger rooms.

"This place is like a museum." Sherlock huffed at that. It practically was a museum with all the items acquired over the years since first presented as a gift to the Holmes. Be careful here and there. Don't touch or go there. Sherlock had learned all the rules and knew what rooms to avoid. John was about to enter one.

John entered the room filled with books floor to ceiling. Antique chairs arranged appropriately to appreciate the natural light. Moving in he saw a glass case containing a first addition of some sort. Opened to a page with beautiful calligraphy. A drawling so intricate ornamented with golden hews.

"If you are going to steel it I suggest the first edition of Shakespeare." John jumped at the voice.

"I wasn't stealing."

"Of course not. " the boy spoke as he entered. Fencing rapier slung over his shoulder. John didn't tense. He remained calm as the older boy approached him. "Just admiring."

"It's lovely." The boy smiles.

"Yes it is. A bible hand painted my monks. My father's prized possession."

"And Shakespeare is not?" the boy liked this dirty looking boy in front of him. He stands there armed with his rapier and the boy just ask a question back. Calm and cool. Standing their ground. Swinging his blade down he lets it rest against a chair. John watching his actions like a hawk. The boy smiles, good I have his attention.

"No. Shakespeare my father is not fond of. He prefers Dickens."

"Then why have it?"

"Because it is rare and valuable." John nods. The ones with the richest toys get to flaunt it over the ones who want and don't have.

"I see." He turns to look at the bible. "I see why your father likes it. But I do prefer Shakespeare over the bible any day." Having had his fill of it quoted to him recently. People trying to be kind and offer him hope. His aunt asking him to read a passage to past the time. Time he hated for he found no comfort in the words like those who believe. Shakespeare is a decent bible on it's own. Stories rewritten over time to be told a new. That's a version he liked. Star crossed lovers, loyal friends, deep quest of revenge.

The boy smiles at him. Moving past him he takes out the Shakespeare from the glass cabinet. Moving over he hands it out. Testing him. John stares at the book then to the boy. Searching his eyes for the deceit. The test.

WONDERLAND

Sherlock enters the kitchen. The maid there takes a look at him in shock. Her charge Sherlock had played and gotten dirty. She grinned inside that she would actually have to work at getting grass stains out then some chemical of unknown origin. But what would cause this transformation. Had he finally hurt himself while traversing the garden? Then the boy stops to look behind him. Looking up he departs. The back worse than the front of him.

WONDERLAND

Sherlock back steps to find John in the library. And there before him like the snake with an apple out. John just staring at it then to the boy. He watches the two for a moment before announcing himself.

"Mycroft, leave John alone."

"Oh so this is John." Like he knew who the boy was the whole time they were conversing. John steps back to stand closer to the boy who invited him into this snake pit. Mycroft smiles taking a step back to place the book in its place of honor and dust. "We were just discussing Shakespeare." Sherlock glares at his older brother. Always trying to play with his toys. Weasel himself into his business. John looks between the dueling glares. Shaking his head he looks to one for the unglass covered shelves.

"If you really don't mind I would like to borrow your Grey's Anatomy book. Any edition will do." Sherlock laughs. Mycroft glares at his brother then looks to John smiling. John didn't know if it was good to be glared at by a snake. Well as long as it didn't bite him.

Mycroft moved with grace. Moving to the shelf he pulls out the book. It was a school volume from a great Uncle who looked into the realm of serving people. Handing it over he grinned as John gazes at him again.

"This one can be bought anywhere. Trust me." John glares at him. Sherlock huffs. Walking over he snatches the book out of Mycroft's hand. Turning to hand it to John and drag the boy along with him. "See you later, John."

John had no idea of what to make of what just transpired. Holding the book close to his chest he follows the boy who seemed the safer of the two.

WONDERLAND

They enter the kitchen. The maid from before still there. Preparing a snack for her young master. Then her eyes go to the other boy who looks half starved and twice as dirty at Sherlock. So that is the reason for Sherlock's disheveled look. She goes to the baskets to prepare another plate of food for the new boy.

Sherlock moves to take a seat at the small dinette in the croak of the kitchen. Always liking to sit there and watch the people work. Observe them for their tells to register their body language. To learn.

Taking the plate he sets it down. John stares at him as he takes the seat opposite the food.

"Sit John, eat." John sat but didn't touch the food. "Eat."

"Why are you being nice to me?"

"Why not?" John pondered that. In recent time everyone just seemed to pawn him off from one person to the other. Finally his aunt being the only one to take him in. sitting down he sets the book down as if it was his lone possession.

Sherlock watched this. The boy a conundrum and maelstrom all in one. Leaping for joy on the inside for he knew it was wrong to see joy in others sadness. On occasion he has burst out in excitement. Yet when he looked at the other boy he quieted that creature inside him down.

The maid walked over to set another tray of food down. She glanced over at the new boy. Then she looks to Sherlock who is glaring daggers at her. That was new. When did Sherlock become protective? She couldn't wait till the Mrs. Caught wind of this.

Leaving the boys she walks past Mycroft who is learking by the door. Mycroft seeming non shallant glared at her. Making her remain quiet as she passed. Passing him with the tea for her lady she went upstairs.

Sherlock watched John dig into the food. The plate being empty in minutes. Looking John over seeing the boy is polite as can be he exchanges plates with him.

"I already ate." John looked dubious. So he took one half of the sandwich pushing the plate back toward him.

"You need to eat as well." Eating slowed one down. But to appease he ate. Sherlock had to admit the sandwich was good. And two just sit and eating. Enjoying the moment.

WONDERLAND

The maid, Piper, walked into Mrs. Holmes day room. Sitting non chalantly in a chair reading the newspaper.

"Mrs. Holmes." Entering to set her tea down on a table.

"Thank you Piper." Piper doesn't leave but stands straight. Mrs. Holmes looks at her maid. "Is there something else?" Piper fidgeted.

"Your son Sherlock came back from his walk filthy and," this caught lady Holmes attention.

"And?"

"And with a new friend."

"Really." Lady Holmes was not your average lady of standing. She grew up in lower London. Meeting Mr. Holmes at a function and falling in love at first sight. And for her son to come home filthy is one thing but with a friend. "Is his friend still here?"

"If they are, they would be in the kitchen." Her son loved to observe the staff. Getting up she begins to see the excitement.

Approaching the kitchen she sees Mycroft hovering to watch. She makes a noise that makes him jump. Always able to sneak up on her boys, a mother's trait. He looks down before meeting her eyes. With a simple head motion he goes to change his cloths and wash. Stepping forward she looks into the kitchen. There before her eyes is her youngest laughing at something the other boy said. Her eyes taking the stranger. Cloths a little to small for an ever growing frame. Dirty from a couple days of unwashing. Looking really close she could just make out the fading bruise on the boys cheek. The poor thing. She always wanted another child. Seems her youngest has brought one home.

Walking in chairs scrap on along the floor. The new boy instantly standing. Placing the chair between him and the intrusion. Her heart going out to the child.

"Mother," Sherlock spoke as his mother entered. Her eyes looking at his new friend.

"Piper told me you had a new friend." It was no good to lie to her son or use a poor saying to describe who told her. So direct to the point. Her eyes go to John who is fidgeting.

"Yes mother this is John Watson he lives with Mrs. Dursley." She nods. The one with the cats. Poor child probably got lost in her flock of felines.

"Pleasure to meet you John."

"Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Holmes." John stuttered calmly. She smiles as she comes in further. Picking up an apple she takes a seat at the table. John looks to Sherlock unsure. Sherlock shrugs taking a seat. He loves his mother dearly. Her opinion mattered to him. Also he wanted to see what his mother thought of his new real friend.

"So are you staying for dinner?" John looks down at his cloths. Turning his head slightly to not show the bruise. He knew what he looked like. A vagabond, an unwanted thing. Just a scrap to be handed around. No place in the world. Not even sure why he is here.

"Um, I am not dressed properly." Wasn't sure if he should defy her one rule, curfew 9 o'clock. But if he was going to get food. Maybe once and worth the extra slap for something he actually did and not her damn cats.

"Well Sherlock and you are about the same size. You two go wash up, get changed and John." She looks him right into the eye. "You are always welcome here." He tilts his head. These people are the weirdest he has ever met. Accepting him when he had trespassed onto their land to eat some of their apples. They even tempted him with first edition to steal, which he could get real money and buy real food and possible live off of. Be away from his damn cat lady aunt.

"That is very kind." She smiles at the little boy. Getting up she wants to wipe the greasy hair from the boys eyes but he flinches. That speaking volumes.

"Sherlock take care of John will you. And your father shall be home for dinner."

"For real this time."

"He promised." Sherlock nods. His father always keeps his promises. Even if it meant putting the world on hold. She exits the room. John turns to Sherlock.

"She's nice." Sherlock laughs.

Mrs. Holmes stops when she hears her youngest laugh. A beautiful sound. If she has to kidnap this boy to see this side of her son. She will.

WONDERLAND

Sherlock read a book while John took first shower. Tossing his cloths in a pile to be cleaned. Sherlock sitting in a robe waiting his turn. Flipping through the book John had actually asked for. Reading the human anatomy. A question remained on the tip of his tongue and would stay there till John was clean.

John looks at himself in the mirror. He was finally clean and unsmelling of cat. Loving the feel of being clean. Relishing in it. It has been some time. The last time the day before church. Good image and all. That was Sunday today is Friday. Looking down he saw the bruises from running across the countryside. It was summer so no school. The countryside filled with those who could afford two homes or those who lived here year round. Running his hand along the scar that ran across his arm. One that brought him here to this hell. Closing his eyes he brushes the thought away.

Exiting the room he sees Sherlock on the bed in a robe.

"Are you wearing any cloths under there?"

"No," John laughs. Sherlock looks at John. His eyes going wide. Cataloguing how thin his new friend really was. Too thin, seeing bone. Then the scars and bruises. John moves to the cloths that Sherlock has laid out. Wanting his body out of view for he knew how hideous he looked. Sherlock stared then looked away as John put a shirt on.

"Sorry." Sherlock runs to the bedroom. His question would have to wait for later. Cleaning quickly he lets his mind relax for a short moment. But what he saw spoke of violence that he had yet seen or know of. And bruises from play and from what looked like a walking cane. Then the unhealthy thinness. Realizing his clothes are gonna be too big on John. And that was saying something for he was a skinny thing in his own right. Mycroft's cloths would be a tent on him. But a circus tent on John.

Exiting the room John is sitting on the bed clothed and reading the book he requested.

"Why that one?" John looks up. Sherlock makes a motion to the book.

"I want to be a doctor."

"How do you know you want to be a doctor?"

"Don't you know what you want to be?" Sherlock had to give him that. But for what he wanted there was no job yet. He wants a job that will test his mind to it's limit its very soul.

"I want to solve crimes."

"So a cop."

"No I want to solve them."

"Police solve them."

"No they don't"

"Then a detective."

"They are just clones solving crimes I want to solve the deepest darkest. The ones that can't be seen and solved with a quick glance."

"Like the book." Sherlock looks at him. Nodding. "Exactly. It was too easy to solve. I need something to test me."

"And if you can't find something." He shrugs. He didn't know. "You could always be the villain." Sherlock looks at John like he is testing him. Seeing what he meant by the words. But John had seen. If he would get too bored what was left except to do the crime.

"Mother would never approve."

"She wouldn't have to know."

"Mother's know everything." John couldn't fault him on that. No matter what he did his mother always seems to know it before he completed the thought.

"True wouldn't want to upset mommy." Sherlock scoffed at that.

"So?"

"I want to be a doctor."

"I gathered that but why?" John had a personal reason. Well several but he wasn't that comfortable yet to spill his life story. Just one look at Sherlock and he knew the boy knew more than he should.

"Just because." John went back to reading. Sherlock would give him that. True they had just met early this day. And so much has happened already.

Sherlock grabs a notepad to sit beside John on his bed.

WONDERLAND

Violet, or Mrs. Holmes if you desire, sat calmly reading over the news of the world. So many things going on so far from them. Yet they are still heard even hear. Nothing cheery. Well except her football team winning. That was always good news. Then she heard it from her spot in the day room.

Mr. Holmes car pulling in. She was so excited to tell her husband all the new things today and a new person.

Mr. Holmes is a well built man. About middle age and in good health. His hair a slight dark ginger but his eyes like his youngest. Seeing everything. That's also what makes him perfect at his job. Something to do with government but it was all hush, hush. She kinda liked it that way. Her husband the spy. When he tells all he does it look at numbers all day. Laughing it off for one can dream. Dream she does.

Siger Holmes approached his home to have the front door opened by his wife who came out to meet him. An unexpected surprise. Even more so when she has a smile. The half straight stern lip saying the boys have done something unimaginable. This one though. This smiles spoke of good news as in new baby news. So he quickly moves toward her.

"Violet are you alright?"

"Yes." She hugs her husband. Buttering him up early.

"Than what is it?"

"Sherlock made a friend."

"Real?" Sherlock had brought home several presumed friends. A skunk. A squirrel. A rabbit.

"Yes a little boy by the name of John. They're up in his room."

"Are you sure he didn't kidnap the boy or pay him off?"

"If you saw and see what I have. You will see too." Siger loves his wife. Especially when she is cryptic. It was part of her charm to make the simple a task of the mind to figure out. He loves her for the small challenges. For it even furthers their love.

"He's still here."

"Yes." Violet leads him inside. Taking in his house he notices his eldest sitting glumly at the bottom of the staircase.

"Mycroft?" Mycroft gets up comes over to give his father a hug. A very out of character event. "What is wrong?"

"I don't know." Violet looks at her eldest. True the atmosphere had changed drastically from this morning. Had she forgotten her eldest in the happiness of her youngest?

"How did fencing go?"

"I did well."

"Good."

"So what do you make of Sherlock's friend?" Mycroft looked to his mother than stood straight to give his finding on John.

"He's very loyal very quickly. Calm when confronted. Speaking in a way that he has faced it often." Violet should have asked him what he saw. For they all saw more than her while she the simple things they would pass over. "He won't take a bribe. And is interested in medicine."

"How did you learn that?"

"I offered him a first addition Shakespeare. He opted for great uncle William's Grey's Anatomy instead." Siger was becoming more impressed by the boy he had yet to meet. One who had his eldest curious and could entertain his youngest. A truly remarkable boy indeed.

"Well good. Why don't you get them and meet us in the dinning room."

"Yes sir." Mycroft went up the stairs.

Siger looks over at his wife to see her all knowing smile.

WONDERLAND

Mycroft entered Sherlock's room without knocking. What he saw made him stop. John lay asleep on the bed beside an equal asleep Sherlock. Sherlock doesn't take naps in the middle of the day. It was a waste of time to do more amazing things. Yet here it is. They lay side by side. Grey's Anatomy laying on John's chest. Rising with each breath. Sherlock's pad had been tossed across the room but the pencil still flexed in between his fingers.

"Sherlock," Sherlock jumped up to stand beside the bed. John on the other had rolled out and under the bed. The brothers look to one another. A quick glance to John then to one another in silent speak. "Father is home and dinner is ready."

"We'll be right down."

Mycroft leaves as John maneuvers himself from under the bed to stand up.

"That was embarrassing."

"Normal response."

"If one doesn't know the situation."

"Hide."

"Live to fight another day." Sherlock nods at that, he picks up his notepad to set it at his desk. Then he takes the Book John was so engrossed with to set it atop his pad.

"Don't worry we can finish it later."

"I have to get back home after dinner."

"No you won't." and on that Sherlock walked out of the room. John stares at him. What is going on? Today started out like the ones of past month. Then a hit on the head with a discarded book to be welcomed in a mansion on unknowns. What a weird wonderland. He looks around. Making sure there are no huge caterpillars or little white rabbits looking at a watch wondering if he is late.

Coming down the stairs to meet with Sherlock at the bottom.

"This way." Sherlock leads him to a room he had not ventures toward earlier in the day. But now he was going inside it. A moderate size table sit in the extravagant room that could sit 6 times the amount that would be sitting in there. All congregating at one end. Violet and Siger talking silently as they approached. Sherlock moved ahead.

"Father I would like you to meet John Watson, my friend." Siger takes in the boy. John hating the attention. Looking away to let his mind go as the man took him in. What he saw he liked the boy but hated whomever had hurt him. Manly one who didn't take care of this innocent. Seeing now why his wife was so enamored. The boy was fine looking. Needing to be fed. Also the boy was different from his two. Showing more emotion but still a beautiful mind.

"Mr. Holmes."

"Siger, please."

"Yes sir." He really likes the boy. They take their seats and food is brought out to them.

"So John, I hear you live with your aunt." He looks to Sherlock for they had been together all day, how?

"You still smell a little of cat." Sherlock informed him. And everyone knew the only way to have a smell impregnate into your pores it had to be quite a number of cats. And she was the only crazy cat lady around. Also Siger knew everything about everyone in the town. Well it seemed he had missed over one.

"Do I smell that bad?"

"You smell better than you did." Sherlock informs him. John nods. He knows too that he smells better than he did.

"Yes I live with her."

"No other family." John stared into the first course of soup before him. Then there was grunt and a kick under the table. Siger bending over to rub his shin while looking at his wife. She shakes her head at his bluntness.

"No," he speaks quietly. "No other." No others that wanted him.

"His family died in a car accident." Sherlock informed. John's head shot up to look at Sherlock. He hadn't told him that. Violet could see the astonished look and sorrow that filled his eyes.

"You have to excuse them John. They are always like this. They need to know everything. And even if they are not told they figure it out in some other way. The minute details."

"It's all in the details." Siger corrects his wife. "I am sorry for your lost." He had heard it all before. Sorry for your lost, now what do we do with him. "But am glad it brought you here." Now that was new. Nobody wanted him anywhere. But why here. When did he fall down a hole and hit his head. Looking at the soup wondering if he drank it would he grow big or shrink smaller.

"Thank you, I think." He tastes his soup. He's still the same size.

Conversation went on from this subject to that. Then the big grandfather clock in the foyer. Alerting them that it is ten o'clock. John jumped straight up.

"I have to go, I'm late." He's the rabbit. "Thank you for dinner. It has been great." In truth it had been the bests moment since that fateful accident. John runs out of the house. Tail between his legs.

WONDERLAND

Sherlock didn't see John the next day. This made him worry. When it became apparent that John wasn't going to come visit him he went to him instead. After a solo morning again he went in hunt of his friend. That's when he found him. John was still in the cloths that Sherlock had loaned him. They were caked in mud and soaking wet. Huddled under a tree just on the rim of their orchard. John lay there with a small suitcase held tightly to his chest. A book bag as a makeshift pillow. And a small sack what looked to be filled with books and some toys.

Running over he rest a hand on John. Fear for his friend. His only friend. Some one who he just clicks with. Someone who his family couldn't stop talking about after he left.

"John, John." Worry filled him. "JOHN!" he tried with more force. The boy groaned slightly. "Good John wake up." This is not working. Getting more forceful he pulled the backpack from under his head. John's head thudded down but his eyes opened to glare at Sherlock.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you home."

"I don' t have a home."

"Yes you do." Sherlock bullied John into getting up. Picking up his belongs he helps lug the hull to his house.

Upon entering Piper shrieked alerting all in the house. It was Sunday so his father was off. Siger ran over to take John in his arms. Mycroft went off to get their mother. Feeling the shivering boy in his arms he takes the stairs two at a time. Entering a room across the hall from Sherlock's. One of many guest rooms.

Violet enters to see Siger taking off John's wet cloths. Cloths that Sherlock had leant him.

"Siger?"

"Piper is drawling a bath. He was outside last night in the late rain and cold night." Violet runs over to take in the boy. Sherlock lays at the head of the bed. John's head in his lap. Mycroft sitting aside Sherlock keeping each other grounded. "Violet I need you to stay here with the boys."

"Where are you going?"

"I am going to go deal with some numbers." His tone so protective. And his meaning delving into their twist in words and what they say. Saying more in simplistic to elaborate that he was going through his job to contend over John's well being. Going to use all his recourses to do whatever he wanted.

WONDERLAND

John woke to a warm bed and a body beside him. The smell of spearmint filled his nose.

"You're awake good." John didn't want to open his eyes. He felt so tired. "I know you're awake."

"No I'm not." John spoke with a grin. Also knowing Sherlock was grinning for being right and getting a response. "What happened?" he asks as he tries to truly wake up.

"Your great aunt kicked you out after you didn't arrive home at your curfew. She tossed your things outside and well. You sleep in the cold night and I found you the next day. You should of stayed John."

"I needed my things."

"We could have gotten you new things." John scrunched his eyes.

"He means his personal items." His pillow informed him. That's when John really began to accept reality and where he is. Trying to move but a soft scented hand stroked his cheek. "It's okay John. Everything is safe and being dealt with." Dealt with. He opens his eyes to Sherlock with a violin in his hands sitting in a chair so he could easily observe him.

"Mrs. Holmes?"

"You're safe John. Siger dealt with your aunt. Don't you worry. You have a home here."

"What? Why? You just met me."

"Your not that hard to decipher. And as Mycroft says, 'you're good for me.'" John huffed at Sherlock's statement. How could he be good for anyone? He had outlived his parents and his older sister by some cosmic fate on how the two cars had hit. He then had no place. A finger flicked his ear.

"Stop thinking like that." He tilts his head to look at Mrs. Holmes. "They is good on their end of knowing things. I'm good on the emotion end as are you. You'll fit in perfectly."

"So I'm gonna live here now?"

"Of course you are," Sherlock told him as if he was a complete idiot. But that was Sherlock.

"That's nice." He settled back again on Mrs. Holmes. He had a home again. A strange crazy one. But it was better than what he had to deal with. Looking beside Sherlock. There sits the one personal affect he needed to salvage above everything else. A picture of his original family. All happy and content on holiday in Paris. Final vacation.

"Why did you want the Grey's Anatomy book? I gathered it was to become a surgeon but why?" John looks at Sherlock. The boy he met the other day. The boy who had welcomed him into his home. gave him a family. How the world turns. Sighing he looks at the enigma of a child who he liked too.

"I want to be one for they care for you when no one else will." Sherlock nods at that. A good reason in his book. Then he begins to pluck at the violin. "You play?"

"Just started learning." John nodded.

"Play something." Sherlock smiles. John relaxes into his human pillow. "Thank you." She runs her hand through his hair. She wants to thank him for what doors he had opened in Sherlock and the few he had cracked and not yet opened with Mycroft. Yes John Watson would make a grand addition to the Holmes clan. Sherlock begins to put strings and notes together. Something simple and easy.

Siger watches from the door as his wife welcomes another boy into their strange fold. Placing a hand on Mycroft's shoulder. Letting him know that he is not forgotten. Mycroft looks up at his father.

"Now I have two little brother to look after." Siger nods at his eldest statement. "They are going to be a handful." Siger smiles at his assessment.

"But they are worth it."

"Indeed." The two exit to strings being played.

The End

WONDERLAND

Author Note:

Sorry if it seems rushed near the end. My muse wanted me to shell this out as fast as I could and this is it.

AN: Ages of the men who played them and what ages I gave;

Mark Gatiss: 66 - 14

Martin Freeman: 71 - 10

Benedict Cumberbatch: 76 - 8

LAST AUTHOR NOTE:

Sorry if my Brit is not posh on. By I am from across the pond and my only impressions are of watching: Doctor Who, Sherlock, Harry Potter and Graham Norton. Apologies. Someday I may visit. RUN!


	2. Continuing to Live

_**Continuing To Live**_

BY: WOLFA MOON  
Summary: 2nd chapter to Wonderland

_**Continuing To Live**_

Mrs. Violet Holmes walks into the dinning room. Their newest addition sitting over a book. Her husband giving him free reign to peruse all his likes in the library. The young student absorbing in the many worlds seeming to be excluded from him. Sherlock giving him books on all sorts of things. Wondering where her other children are. They seem to hover around their latest family member. Trying to see who could out do the other. Little John seeming to gravitate more toward his hero, Sherlock. Sherlock gravitating toward John. Such an interesting companionship.

Her son changing a little bit by bit. Laughing more. A smile appearing on his face.

"John," he looks up at her. "What are you doing in here?"

"Um," he looks up and around to see that he is alone in the dinning hall. "They were here then um. I don't know. Reading." She smiles coming over to him. He watches her carefully. Inside she hated that the boy seem to put himself on guard around adults. Having gotten the whole history. A history she intends to rectify. She moves to sit beside him.

"They are probably off experimenting."

"They do, do that a lot." His world had changed. Instead of being cast out he is welcomed into this strange family. And his new brothers' minds thinking so unlike anyone he has ever met. Moving so differently. "It is quiet in here."

"Then that means they are not inside the house." He smiles at that. So does she. "Do you need any help?" he shrugs. Moving close she looks at the book. It's a collection of Poe. The first mystery writer. "Interesting reads."

"Trying to figure out how they work." John struggled in order to understand the male dominant force in this house. Their mind delving in ways both could never endeavor.

"How do you?" he looks around. "How do they think like that but?"

"They think in every angle. Take in all the details. Down to the tiniest detail. Then they with their knowledge put the pieces of the puzzle together faster to see what the picture is."

"See that I understand. It just…" I'm not like them.

"You are perfect just the way you are. We don't ask you to be any different." They smile. "How about we go make some biscuits?" Closing the book they make their way into the kitchen.

Sure they have staff to cook and help with cleaning and tending. Still there are some things that a average girl still needs to do to feel normal and not the queen of a house. So not to think high on oneself. And also these small moments let her become closer to the other emotion in the house.

_**Continuing To Live**_

Sherlock ran into the house covered head to toe in soil and who knows what.

"John? John!" No response. Stomping the muck off he disposes of his cloths. Moving in further a smell catches the air. Moving in further he followed his nose. It smelled wonderful.

Entering he stops. John and his mother are baking. They have flour all over them. John is grinning from ear to ear. His mother the same. They are both singing some old sailor chantey. Sure his mother is from the lower ranks as his grandmother told him but she seems so at ease. John though is so open. Not hiding in a book to learn what things they knew. This must be what watching a blooming flower is like. They keep singing and John throws flour in the air and starts spinning. His mother grabbing his hands and twirling with him. Sure he dances with his mom. Formal upper standing dancing. These dances are no known steps to him. This is emotion. John stamps his feet then does a slapping move on knees and twirls. His mother laughing loudly copying him. Then they twirl. The movements confusing. Sure his mother is the emotion out brining in his father. But this. John is his emotion bringer. Seeing what a normal child should be like. Not a freak.

John bounces hips with her again. Lost in the movements and laughter. His mother and sister always loving to fill the house with music. Sing like no one is listening. Dance like no one is watching. No regrets. There is a radio going on in the background. The music changed from Journey to Wind Beneath My Wings. John froze. Looking to the radio then around him. He had become lost in it all. Felt free. Then everything crashed.

Violet watches the fast paced change in her son. The happiness draining from his face. She kneels before him. Moving to wipe the flour from his face.

"John?"

"My mom loves this song." True she would never be his birth mom but hopes to have a place in his heart.

"It's a beautiful song." Water so easily fills his eyes. Violet smiles. So long since she seen her children cry. Hiding it behind that big mind of theirs. Moving in she wraps her arms around him. "It's okay John. You have us."

"I'm sorry."

"Never be sorry."

_**Continuing To Live**_

Sherlock watches as his friend collapses into his mother. Crying. John does that a lot. Always wondering why but he brushes it off. Learning the tell of ones emotions are truth or fake. Which cries are what. This one though is of lost. But his mother's tears. She looks at him. Her hand motioning him to come her. Doing as told he stops before her.

"Sherlock," John stiffens.

"I was looking for you." John wipes his tears looking at her then to Sherlock.

"We um were making biscuits." Sherlock nods. John putting on a ghost of a smile. Sherlock smiles back.

"I found some frogs. Want to dissect them with me?"

"Um," he looks to Mrs. Holmes.

"Go ahead. I'll call you both down for teatime. And Sherlock anyones you don't dissect please release back into the pond."

"Yes mother." The two depart.

"Mycroft, why do you lurk in shadow?"

"Because it is the best way to observe."

"And what did you learn?" Knowing how to respond to each of her children. Basing more for John on her self.

"John is very emotional."

"As am I."

"True mother."

"Do you love me?"

"Always mother." As if that was a rather stupid question to ask.

"John loves his mother as you love me. He misses her." She turns to check on the biscuits. Then surprised when arms hug her.

"I would miss you greatly." She hugs him back. John gave her sons emotion back. Thank you.

"I love you."

_**Continuing To Live**_

Violet is an homemaker. Watching the children grow and be there for support. Now watching as the children taking riding lessons. John sitting on he post next to her.

"Have you ever ridden John?"

"On weekends sometimes. Mostly holidays."

"Would you like to?"

"No thank you mam I don't want to be a burden."

"John, we may not be you birth parents but we are your family now." He looks at her. She smiles. "What do you like to do?"

"I like football." She smiles at him. Urging him to continue. "Rugby."

"Physical sports."

"It's how I grew up."

"I'm not telling you what is right and wrong. I grew up playing. It would be an honor to take you to your games. And I think it is good to get Sherlock and Mycroft into the more low brow sports." They both laugh and nudge shoulders. She knows what the other women think of her. Marrying for money. Truth, she fell in love. John places an arm on her shoulder. He has heard the other women talk of her. Kicking dirt on their fancy cloths.

Violet may not be his mom but she has a good heart. Welcoming and caring for him.

_**Continuing To Live**_

Sherlock watches as John runs up and down the field. It's exhausting just watching him move. But he has to admit that he is good. Running the ball to score several times. Watching his mom glow as John scores. He did fencing with his brother winning too. His mother glows then as well but it is strange when it is aimed toward someone else. Jealousy, he wonders. He has seen people act on this and it just ends with someone bruised and the other getting into trouble over the debatable.

He cares for John a great deal. He's his only friend. Sure he had teammates and school chaps but that was on demanded time to be together. John stuck to him no matter what time of day it was or what he is doing. Even helping with his experiments. Yet when he sees the other boys on the team patting him on the back and soaring with him as he goals. That is when real red clouds his vision. John coming over with a fellow teammate.

"This is Greg." Violet smiles to the boy. Sherlock stiffens. John sees this. Moving over to stand by his brother/friend. "Greg this is my best friend Sherlock." Sherlock gasp like a fish. They have never spoken on terms of their relationship beyond you are family. The brother I always wanted.

"Hello," Greg spoke putting out a hand. Sherlock shakes it.

"Hello." The seen is tense and all John can do is look between both of them. Wondering what is up. Sherlock doesn't get jealous, does he? "You both did well."

"Thanks. I gotta go. See you next practice."

"Sure. Bye Greg." Greg runs off to a man with a Manchester United jersey on. The man picking him up and lifting him upon his shoulders. John looks longly at them. Remembering his father doing that. Doubting Mr. Holmes would ever do that. A soft peck on the cheek snaps him from his daze. Looking over to a smiling Violet.

"You played wonderfully. Where do you want to go for lunch?" John looks to Sherlock then to Violet. Since with them they had mostly eaten at home or at places he had to wear a tie to.

"McDonalds." He voices before his stomach grumbles. She smiles warmly at him. Such a hometown boy. The simplicities of fried food.

"Ok," she begins to escort them away.

"Mother, father says those things are bad for you."

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him and a little bad once in a while can be good for you."

_**Continuing To Live**_

They return home both with happy meal boxes held in their hands. Sherlock still examining the pig driving a car. John having to explain her name is Ms. Piggy and who the rest of the Muppets are. Sherlock ever attentive and listening as John regales him of books he read and programs he watched. Taking him upstairs to pull out a beat up Muppet book. The binding being held together with tape.

"You must really like that book." John still looking down at it. Running a hand along the tape.

"I tore it in two because Harry wanted it. We tore it. Took me a roll of tape to get it readable again." John puts the book back in his original bag. John still keeping it and his most worldly past treasures held within. "It's a good book." He holds it out for Sherlock. "It may be too babyish for you. Sorry I shouldn't have." He begins to turn. Sherlock stops him.

"Read it to me." Sherlock never ask to be read to. He was reading before he could fully change himself. Potty took time and he wanted to continue to read. Then learning he could take a book in there and read while sitting. Spending his days on the loo. This though is important. Learning anything that came form the bag is important. Even if it is a scrap of ribbon that is very thready. It is a treasure to be secured in its chest. Only John can get items out.

Sitting down John read it to him. Sherlock asking question after question. Ending with a frustrated John.

"Shut up Sherlock it is a story and meant to be read not interpreted or figured out. Just enjoy or I'll punch you in the face." Sherlock looks at him to see John smiling. He beams on the inside. John is happy.

_**Continuing To Live**_

Mycroft sits across from his mother. She looks up at him as he does something smart and cleaver. But mostly remaining quiet.

"Are you okay honey?" Mycroft freezes. Ever since John came it is like baby Sherlock all over again and him being ignored.

"When can we send John back?" this made his mother really look at him. Sure he enjoyed that he keep Sherlock out of his affairs. Made his brother act supposedly normal.

"He's not going back."

"Surely he has more family than the cat hag." Stunned to hear what her eldest is saying.

"Where is this coming from?" Mycroft closes his book to give her his full attention.

"I know it is good to have Sherlock behave normal-er. But why does he need to stay he. He can live with his aunt and we can visit. Or has some other family that will take him."

"There is no other place and you will desist this talk now." She's getting upset at him. He knew what John's life was like. Knew that there is nothing. "Tell me what brought this on now or so help me no treats for a year." Mycroft gaped at her. Treats were the only highlight of behaving and eating vegetables.

"You love him more than me."

"Oh Croft. I love you all the same. John just needs some more hands on care right now till he finds his place. You already have yours, as does Sherlock. John, he is a new piece that we need to see fit into our family. Besides he has never hurt us or such. He makes Sherlock smile and keeps him out of your hair. You can't tell me you don't miss that?" she eyes him up.

"No, I just…"

"Began to worry. I love you all." She hugs her son. Mycroft leans into her. She has the biggest heart in the world. Maybe he should get to know John better.

_**Continuing To Live**_

Months continue then one day John becomes quiet. The day previous he had one a cup. Scoring wins left and right. Now today he's hold himself in the closet. Sherlock sitting inside across from him watching his best friend. Mycroft sitting on the bed looking down at the trophy/cup. Violet beside him. Then Mr. Holmes comes in. slowly making his way to his wife. Eyes asking, any change. She shakes her head. Coming over he hands her a news clipping. Reading quickly. Tears brim her eyes before she hands it over to Mycroft. Mycroft reads it.

Today is the day he lost his family.

_**Continuing To Live**_

AUTHOR/NOTE::

I've had the first bit sitting on my laptop for a while. I thought I would try to give some story more to it before quitting on it for a while. I am trying to shell these out so I can work on my own stuff. So if don't update fore a while I apologize I just hope you enjoy, alert, and review.

THANK YOU ALL!


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